The End
by Lif61
Summary: Chuck writes about the Apocalypse and how it was averted, and as he does so he has thoughts of intervening.


**A/N: Written for week seven of SPN Hiatus Creations. Prompt: meta episodes.**

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Chuck had continued writing even though Sam and Dean had told him not to. He wasn't trying to publish anything anymore, so he supposed it was all right. Writing down the lives of the Righteous Man and the Boy With the Demon Blood felt important. They were his creations after all, meant to be taken by his sons Michael and Lucifer. And the more he saw, the more he was rooting them.

This was why Chuck didn't intervene.

He saw Zachariah hurting Sam and Dean, taking away their lungs, giving them stomach cancer, trying to get Dean to say yes to Michael. He liked Dean, and with Michael possessing him Dean would only exist within his own head, trapped till the universe eventually died. Whether it would die of natural causes, from running its course, or if it would die from some outward intervention, he didn't know. He loved Michael. But he'd also grown fond of the human. He'd grown fond of Sam too.

He saw Lucifer go to him at night, lie in his bed, trick him just as he always tricked everyone. But then he was honest, saying what he wanted with him. Some part of Chuck was pleased that Lucifer hadn't hurt Sam. He knew the kind of agonies and destruction his favorite son could unleash. But he was worried, knew how Lucifer was if he didn't get what he wanted. Still, he didn't intervene. Watched and wrote as Sam cried in his motel room.

He watched the efforts of the angels to get the two brothers to do their bidding, to start the Apocalypse. Chuck had set the Apocalypse to happen. But some small part of him hurt watching these two humans try their best in a world that just kept kicking them at every chance it got.

He saw the demons who went after them, the humans who went after them, the monsters, the evil. He saw hunters hold Sam down and force demon blood into his mouth. He saw Zachariah send Dean to the future where Lucifer had won. He saw their run-in with the antichrist, who was just a small boy who didn't know any better. He saw the lesson Gabriel tried to teach them, even laughed at some of their mishaps as he wrote them down. He saw Bobby get stabbed and lose the use of his legs, saw their friends Jo and Ellen die to give them a fighting chance, saw Lucifer corner Castiel and try to get him on his side. He saw them losing their minds, being tied down and hurt, saw them dying, saw them fighting, saw them crying and drinking.

Chuck could make alcohol affect him if he wanted it to, just a little bit of will and he could get as drunk as a human could. So some nights he drank and drank and drank, and he paced, agonizing over whether he should intervene or not. They were looking for him. Castiel was looking for him. And he was right there in front of him! They'd even met up with him at a con, and Sam and Dean being the heroes they were, had saved everyone from vengeful ghosts. Chuck had known that was going to happen. He knew all the things that were going to happen, that were supposed to happen.

They were losing hope, the world was hurting, and people were praying to him, constantly praying. If he wasn't God their voices would be giving him headaches. He saw it all, and he felt pain from seeing theirs. He saw Michael's desperation and arrogance, he saw Lucifer's quiet manipulations followed by violent outbursts that ravaged towns and gods. He saw the angels and the demons fighting and fighting, saw them scheming. And Sam, Dean, and Castiel were smack dab in the middle of it, still going, still trying, despite it all. They were hurting, they were wailing inside, begging for a way out.

God nearly gave it to them. He nearly showed, nearly intervened, nearly put a halt on the Apocalypse.

But he told himself he didn't care.

He didn't care. He'd created the universe, now it was their turn for everything to play out. There was an order to these sorts of things. If he intervened, stopped the pre-planned Apocalypse, he might as well just intervene with everything else, make the universe his playground.

That would be arrogant. That would be something he would've done ages and ages ago, long before he'd even considered making this universe. Somehow, he would mess up, ruin this beautiful creation of his.

So Chuck wrote. It was all he could think to do. He wrote Dean nearly saying yes to Michael, Michael taking their younger brother Adam. He wrote Sam drinking enough demon blood to make his eyes turn black if he wished it. He wrote him saying yes to Lucifer, Lucifer and Michael fighting, Dean, Castiel, and Bobby showing up, Adam going to Heaven as Michael got molotoved, Lucifer blowing up Castiel and breaking Bobby's neck, Dean comforting Sam as Lucifer tried beating him to death. And then, Sam took control. Sam threw himself into the pit, into the darkest and most vile depths of Hell, into the Cage, taking Michael with him. God wrote about the two brothers who saved the world.

He wrote the end. And the end didn't happen.


End file.
